spiritingaway | snowblind style angst

snowblind style angst

[They're in one of the nicer houses at the moment. Whoever lived here must have been rich, and while the place is looking a little worse for wear, it's still huge. That makes it a pain to search, but they're also more likely to find something useful.

Royce used to collect weapons almost obsessively, but Tifa doesn't think there's much point to that now. To be fair, weapons were never at the top of her list, but now there's no one to use them against. It's not like they do anything against the anomalies, after all. Personally, Tifa always holds out hope that she'll find something silly. It's fun to tease Royce, and she's secretly trying to find something even more hideous than that sweater that she can give him.

There's a big, ornate dresser pushed up against one wall that Tifa is rifling through. She's long since stopped wondering how it's possible that they can search a house and find something that they're certain wasn't there a few days ago. It's just another mystery of the town, like what keeps restocking the supply points or how the tablets stay charged. This drawer mostly seems to be a bunch of paperwork, full of bills and things she doesn't see any use in stopping to read. At the bottom, though, she finds a fake, glittery pink flower, slightly crushed but still intact. She snorts softly, pulling it out and then glances over at Royce.]

Hey, Royce.

[He should probably know by now from that tone that she's going to do something stupid.]

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[ He's a mess. He's still covered in blood, his hair's a wreck, he's pale and the circles under his eyes look like bruises. Looks like he's been crying, on and off, eyes red and strained. Feels like his voice isn't working right, either, feels like he can't stop shaking. She's right there, and this hurts. ]

You're... [ He starts, hoarse. ] This isn't funny.

[He looks terrible, and it makes her heart ache to see him like this. She exhales, slow and shaky.]

I know. I'm not...

[Of course he'd be suspicious. It's Royce. She's not sure why she expected anything else.]

It isn't a trick. I promise.

No, don't - don't. [ Royce snaps, dropping his tablet on the ground. He gets up to stalk back to the couch, angrily wiping at his face. Feels better to be angry. Better to be angry than empty. ]

I won't listen. You won't - you won't play with me like that. I won't.

I'm not playing with you. Royce, please, just listen to me.

[She doesn't even know how she can convince him that this isn't a trick. Tifa rubs a hand over her face, frustrated and drained.]

I can prove it to you, right? Just... tell me what you want me to do.

[ Thing is, he doesn't even know how she could prove it. Everybody else died and never came back. Why is this different? It has to be a trap. A way to get him to run out into the snow and get eaten by monsters.

Royce has always stayed alive out of spite, and he's not going to stop now. ]

Come here. [ Royce says from across the room. ] Where did they put you? Make it here.

[It makes sense that he's reacting like this. She gets it, but it still hurts in an illogical way. She's shaken up and scared, and she really just wants him to tell her she's going to be okay.

But. Alright. Tifa sighs, tipping her head back and letting it hit the side of the shelf behind her as she closes her eyes. Just for a second. Just to get herself together.]

Okay. I'm— [She's doesn't actually know where she is. She hasn't left the morgue yet.] One second.

[She's silent as she picks herself up off the floor and heads for the stairs. He probably won't really want to talk to her until he knows this isn't a trick. She finds herself in the chapel, which is great because it's not far from where they were before, but terrible because it reminds her of Aerith in the worst way.]

Where are you? Is it the same house?

[ He's scared, too. Because he wants it to be her, but he can't trust it. He can't get his hopes up only to have it violently ripped away from him. If she can make it here... if he can see her, face to face.

Royce stands, unsteady, and pulls her blanket around him. ]

Yes. [ He says, sounding exhausted. ] I... I can meet you. [ It's not a good idea, he thinks, he shouldn't give in. Maybe he's a little desperate to find out if it's true. ] I can meet you halfway.

Okay.

[It comes out very quiet, and she hesitates for a moment before continuing.]

You don't have to. If you... If it makes you feel better, you can wait.

[ That's what the paranoid part of him wants to do. The paranoid part of him wants to take his stuff and run as far as he can, until he collapses. Far away from what's probably a sophisticated anomaly, looking to hurt him.

But Royce is tired. Maybe a little tired of that paranoia. And really, what does he have to lose?

He grabs his tablet, shaking his head. ] The... the house with warm water. Do you remember where that is? [ He hopes she does. It was one of those things they'd been incredibly excited about. ]

[She nods, smiling a little. It looks forced shaky at the edges.]

I remember. I'll meet you there.

[ He murmurs something quiet, and shuts his tablet off. Has to be able to concentrate, and he can't, not with her hurt and weak smile in his mind. He wants nothing more than to comfort her somehow (the best he can, which he knows isn't much) but he has to make sure.

He takes his things and makes it there. It doesn't take long. He gets there first, and sits on the front porch in the cold, knife in his lap. Not that he could hurt an anomaly if it tried to come at him, but it makes him feel better.

Royce curls up, his hair pulled back the best he can when it's crunchy with dried blood. He waits, watching the snow with what's probably a familiar, brooding look. ]

[Tifa takes a little longer, but she gets there. That look is familiar to her, and she hates seeing it almost as much as she hates seeing the blood on his face. Visibility isn't terrible, so she knows he saw her coming, but she halts a few feet from the porch anyway, not approaching him. She doesn't want to make him more uncomfortable when he's already keyed up like this.]

Hi.

[ It's so hard, because she looks... fine. It looks like her.

His expression is already wavering by the time she stops, emotion he can't control welling up in his chest. He pulls himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the door, knife in hand. There's a long moment of just... searching, and then he moves. Walks down the steps of the porch, and stops in front of her.

He's not sure if he's trembling or shivering. Probably both. ]

... Hi. [ If she's going to hurt him, now would be the time, Royce thinks. He doesn't think he cares if she does or not. ]

[He has a knife. She didn't see it before, and it doesn't surprise her, but it makes her chest ache. All she wants to do is reach for him, to figure out a way to get him to stop shaking, but she doesn't. She hesitantly offers him her hand instead, eyes searching his face.]

It's just me.

[ He hesitates.

And then he backs away, shaking his head a little. ] ... Inside. Come inside. [ He can't help it. He knows he's going to hurt her if it is really her, but surely she knows he has to do this. He has to make sure. Tifa told him to keep trying. If it's a trap and he walks right into it, he's not trying hard enough.

Royce slowly backs up the porch, and into the house, knife still at the ready. He waits for her to follow. ]

[Hurt registers on her face for just a moment before she looks down and nods. She keeps telling herself that it makes sense for him to be this uncertain, because it does. What doesn't make sense is that fact that she's back when no one else is.

Tifa follows him into the house, taking a few steps inside and then just... waiting.]

What do you want me to do?

I don't know. [ And that's frustrating, because he feels like he should. He always has a contingency plan, but he's so overwhelmed that it's hard to think straight. If she really is back, there's nothing he can do to prove it. All the secrets he might have told her, Admin would have known. Not... not that they've seen any sort of response from Admin in a long time.

Something brought her back, though. Impossibly, something brought her back. ]

... Answer questions. [ Not just one, a few. Ones he knows she'll know. He can't be sure it's her, but even a computer can't completely mimic a person. The way she says it, the way she answers, he thinks... he thinks that can be good enough. And sure, maybe his voice breaks a little when he asks, but he's tired. ] What is Hadrian to me?

[She wraps her arms around herself, biting her lip. There's no good way to prove herself to him, so she'll just have to trust that he'll find whatever he's looking for in her answers.]

Your best friend. You were partners. You've known each other for a long time.

[How in depth should she get here?]

[ That's a good start. Plus, it hurts to hear - makes him feel good, in a way, like the twist at him is punishment enough for letting her die for him. ] I gave you something. A long time ago. After you died. What was it?

[Tifa bites her lip, then smiles, small and hesitant.]

A little stuffed owl. It was brown.

[ One more. ] Do you remember the dream I had? Two years ago.

[She nods again. Kind of hard to forget when he was so angry that she was in his dream at all.]

It was about Manzant, and I couldn't really talk to you because... We were all having strange dreams and there were side effects. I had to use your voice and you hated it.

[ Maybe he shouldn't, but he does anyway. He shouldn't trust this, but he does. His shoulders ease, and he lowers the knife, slowly, before just dropping it entirely. It thuds into the floor, and Royce reaches to rub at his face with both hands, feeling weak. ]

How did you come back? [ He's not expecting an answer from this one, and that might be clear from his tone. ] Nobody else came back.

I don't know. I don't—

[Her voice breaks and she swallows. It hurts, seeing him like this, and she reaches for him carefully, brushing her fingers against his arm.]

I'm so sorry, Royce.

[ It's okay. He's about two seconds from reaching for her anyway. She beats him to it, and he just sinks into it, into her, slipping his arms around her waist and closing his eyes, burying his face in her shoulder. ]

Don't. [ He mutters, holding her tightly. ] Don't, you don't have to.

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